


(Not) In My Head

by Ebyru



Series: Blood Red and Cyan-Eyed [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Angst, Claiming, Double Penetration, F/M, Fluff, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marking, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, POV Alternating, Pack Dynamics, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, Psychological Trauma, Rough Sex, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Sex Toys, Slash, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebyru/pseuds/Ebyru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She stays on top – not that Isaac minds, or will ever mind for the rest of his life – grinding down hard, riding him through his clothes, barely taking in any breaths between kisses just so she can keep full contact and suck on his lips and tongue, growling like this is what she’s been waiting for all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not) In My Head

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Beta'd by the awesome [Starlightdusk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlightdusk%20)
> 
> Spoilers for around episode 6 of season 2. And I will probably be straying from canon (like I'm not already, but more) in the next parts.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone following this series; I adore you. <3

When the hallucinations of the blood in her shower – and the monster chasing her – stop, Lydia starts seeing this blue-eyed kid around school. He seems kind of to himself, like Stiles, but more confident about it, like Jackson.

She doesn’t ask his name because it doesn’t come up. He’s nice enough not to laugh at her like all the other students have. (Even most of her ‘friends’.) He seems to be the only one who doesn’t look at her like she’s five seconds away from ripping out her own hair. And she could fall in love with him for that reason alone. Never mind how piercingly blue his eyes are.

It’s while she’s waiting to see the principle – after another bout of uncontrollable crazy, as people might call it – that he’s there again. It’s like he _knows_ when she’s feeling most down, vulnerable, in need of a friend.

It’s nice talking to him, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s so charming (and so very easy on the eyes).

 

\---

Isaac is walking past Lydia, on his way back from the bathroom, when he hears her talking to…herself.

Sure, he’s heard the rumours that she’s lost her marbles, snapped for good, but he didn’t think it was this bad. Stiles won’t mind if Isaac teases his ‘girlfriend’ a bit, will he? _Nah_.

Isaac plops down on the seat where her invisible conversational partner is probably sitting. He expects Lydia to be startled out of her thoughts – to jump a bit, maybe call him some colourful names – but he couldn’t predict how devastatingly frightened she would look at the realization.

It wasn’t his goal to terrorize her; she looks as horrified as Isaac most likely had when his father threw glass at him and nearly blinded him with it. But her tears…Her tears are what make Isaac regret ever uttering a bad word against her – even if it was before he befriended Stiles.

Lydia’s looking down at the chair, hoping she hasn’t been proving everyone right all this time. Seeing a kid that doesn’t exist all over town, and talking to him? Great way to convince your friends that you’re doing better.

If there’s anything Isaac is good at, it’s listening. And he can do that for her. He wants to try and make her feel better somehow.

“I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Lydia’s hand shakes when she wipes her tear away. Anyone else besides Isaac would have missed it. “What do you want? Going to tell everyone I should be locked up?”

Isaac feels worse than he did a second ago. “I meant it, Lydia. I’m sorry. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Lydia hasn’t had anyone ask her that in weeks – besides Allison and her parents. Even Jackson seems to be distant, different, preoccupied. Not mean exactly, but not friendly with her either. And Isaac, almost a complete stranger, is _sincerely_ asking her if she’s okay. She can swear there’s even some water in his eyes. Seems like there are still a few good students around school.

“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else,” Lydia warns, pulling out her makeup case to dab at her nose.

Isaac nods, snapping her makeup container shut. She’s trying to keep up appearances, but she’s already lost face. He’s seen her cry and break down. This is Lydia Martin, though, the most sought after girl in school. She will always try to hide her pain.

“I swear I only want to help.”

And she believes him, in spite of recent events, in spite of all the others who turned their backs on her. So, she tells him everything – starting from the attack in the field.

 

\---

Later, they skip their last period together, and Isaac offers to bring her home. She agrees, although she keeps insisting she’s sane enough to get to her house on her own.

It’s the opposite once they arrive, and she realizes her parents are gone, and that kid keeps trying to whisper secrets in her ear while Isaac walks down her steps --

“Wait!” Lydia clears her throat, blocking her ears when the kid tries to convince her he exists again. “Can you stay for a while? I mean…if you’re not busy. Just until my parents get back.” Knowing how she’s been acting lately, they might take their time coming home.

Isaac wishes she wouldn’t try to be so strong; it’s obvious if Isaac says _no_ that she’ll be afraid, probably won’t sleep tonight. She won’t be doing any better tomorrow, or maybe won’t be at school at all…

“Sure, Lydia. No problem. That’s the only good thing about being an orphan.”

 

\---

Jackson’s been through a lot lately. But so has Lydia. Truthfully, he really feels like the worst person – _thing_ – alive for leaving her the way he did.

And the look on Stiles’s face at that party, the anger he barely contained, knowing Jackson was supposed to be taking care of Lydia and he failed her – failed them both…Sometimes Jackson stays awake at night wondering if he can ever fix them. Make things right.

But, for right now, he has to smooth things out with Lydia again. She needs to know that them not dating anymore doesn’t mean he stopped caring.

Stiles already seems to have forgiven Jackson for being…who he is. Though, he probably hasn’t for the mental state Lydia is in now.

And, all that selfish, fake behaviour aside, Jackson wants to warn Lydia about the things in town. Werewolves, hunters, _himself_. She deserves to be told that he’s become something else, that he’s not sure what he is, but that it doesn’t matter because he’s most definitely dangerous. Maybe she’d be happy to know there’s a reason they aren’t together. Maybe she’d feel better about it once he gives her blanket permission to kill him if he ever attacked her (or anyone else, while she’s around).

When Jackson can’t find her at school, he takes off down the street to her house. She’s probably home alone again. Like he usually is.

 

\---

Somewhere between Isaac coming inside and being offered some juice, he ends up in Lydia’s bedroom, petting her hair while she clings to him and shivers. She’s probably frightened the visions will never go away.

Then Lydia forces him in closer, and Isaac’s never been this close to a beautiful girl – who isn’t Erica – so he lets her. She whimpers, a slightly hysterical note to it, if he tries to move away or give her some space. She drags him in for an even tighter embrace, warm exhales gathering in his neck like kisses, making his skin tingle for the real thing. 

It’s not his fault, really, that the wolf in him is getting so excitable over a young, vulnerable girl leaving her scent across Isaac in trails. He closes his eyes against the next breath, and it hits his face, he realizes. Lydia is watching him, a kind of fearful expectance in her eyes.

 _No one wants to kiss the crazy girl_ he guesses she might be thinking. But she’d be wrong, and is wrong, because Isaac is holding his wolf back with every fibre of his being to not give in. This isn’t supposed to be like this. Is it? She just wants company. _Right_?

He thinks he heard her mutter something, but then she’s on him – full body contact – mouth pressed to his with insistence and experience that demands access. She’s taking control of all his senses, including the wolf that was scratching at his insides earlier, and Isaac…likes that. He likes it a lot more than he probably should.  She’s broken up inside, and all he wants to do is crawl right in there and find all the spots that make her cry out in ecstasy.

She moans, pinning Isaac’s arms down on the bed, hips rolling in sultry, perfect little waves, pressing him down into the bed as if she’s about to fuck him instead of the other way around.

But this explains a lot, actually. Maybe this is why her and Jackson clash so often: they both want control, and neither wants to concede it. Lucky for her, Isaac has no problem rolling over at letting her take charge – literally.

She stays on top – not that Isaac minds, or will ever mind for the rest of his life – grinding down hard, riding him through his clothes, barely taking in any breaths between kisses just so she can keep full contact and suck on his lips and tongue, growling like this is what she’s been waiting for all along.

She’s pushing the limits of his wolf abilities, and he loves it; has never felt this intensely aware of how much further he could be taking sex. His body can definitely take it, and he hopes hers can, too. But since she’s the one controlling the pace, the one thrusting her tongue in his mouth, eating him alive, the one rocking against him and making his cock swell, he figures it’ll be all right.

There’s a knock at her door, and Isaac is scared to death for a moment – if her parents found them like this, she might never hear the end of it – but it turns out to be Jackson.

Lydia is stunned that Jackson hasn’t stormed out or yelled, or called her cruel names, yet; that he actually seems like he cares about this, about letting them do this with each other. That maybe he approves of what’s happening. That he’d like to stay…

Jackson licks his lips, hand dropping from where it was poised against the door, and he takes a step forward, clearing his throat. “I – uh – wanted to see how you were doing.”

Lydia smiles, hands mindlessly stroking Isaac’s chest, making it hard for Isaac to imagine anything but good coming from this interruption. He can smell that tell-tall arousal all over Jackson, can taste the foreign scent spreading across his tongue as if he has Jackson’s cock back in his mouth. And the only thing that would make Isaac hotter right now would be to have both of these complicated, intelligent, mouth-watering creatures in bed with him.

“I missed you,” Lydia whispers, fingers still splayed across Isaac’s body. Jackson sucks in a shaky breath when Isaac grins at him. “Are you…going to – is this okay?”

Lydia looks so desperately hopeful.

Jackson shivers, ripping off his jacket. “Yeah.” His belt clinks to the floor with a deafening revelation. A positive answer. A promise. “Move over.”

So, they gladly make space for Jackson in Lydia’s bed.

Jackson pulls off his shirt, walking over to her bedside drawer. He knows what’s in there: condoms, lubricant, beads, handcuffs…But he also knows he’s only interested in a few of those items right now. He grabs condoms, lube and Lydia’s favourite vibrator.

Lydia unbuttons Isaac’s shirt, still straddling his lap, while Jackson sits down at the end of the bed, at Isaac’s feet, sliding down the zip of Lydia’s dress. She hums softly when his fingers trail against the clasp of her bra, tugging it open. She lifts her hips, and both Isaac and Jackson help to slide her dress down her hips. She cups her breasts in her hands, standing over Isaac on the bed until he wiggles out of his pants and underwear.

Jackson does the same, reaching out to slide his hand across Lydia’s ass, at the perfect level for him to just…

“Fuck, _Jackson_ ,” Lydia breathes, hands kneading into the flesh of her chest as his teeth sink into her ass, tugging gently. “Let me take them off.”

Isaac growls for them to hurry it along, spreading his legs, fingers cupping her breasts and kneading, just pleading. _God_ , they make a pretty picture. Just like a wet dream or actors in a porn film. Beautiful and sensual together like nothing human and flawed ever should be. And Isaac is sitting in first class, getting a view all to himself as Jackson laps his tongue over the bite marks on Lydia’s ass.

Finally – _finally_ – Lydia sits back down on his lap, and Isaac notices there’s a condom stretched over his cock already. When exactly Jackson had time to do that between teasing them all and getting naked, no one will ever know.

Lydia is just as impatient as ever, and when she gets her tongue back in Isaac’s mouth, her fingers scraping over his scalp with hunger and need, Jackson lines Isaac’s cock up and eases it inside of her. The first thrust is all her - greedy and slippery and tight – forcing her hips down on his cock, sucking at his jaw while Isaac pants, trying to get enough air into his lungs.

Jackson kneels right behind Lydia, caressing Isaac’s thighs, down Lydia’s back, around to her chest to tug at her nipples. He presses kisses to her skin and Isaac’s hands when they both moan after a particularly hard thrust. They move against each other, eager for Jackson to join, but he has other plans.

The buzz is low enough that Lydia doesn’t hear it, but Isaac perks up when he does. Jackson grins wickedly, putting a finger up against his lips, telling Isaac to be quiet. Lydia arches prettily when Isaac lies back down, peppering kisses across her chest, and up her neck.

 _That’s good_ , Jackson thinks, _keep distracting her_.

Lydia is pressed close to Isaac’s chest, their bodies sticking together with sweat, her hands still tangled in his hair, when she feels the nudge at her entrance.

“Jackson,” she moans, eyes fluttering closed. Isaac nips at her lips, driving into her harder to keep her pleasure ratcheted up high enough that she can’t think of anything else.

One finger slides in and she freezes, teeth and tongue dragging against Isaac’s collarbone. “Yes, please, _more_.”

Isaac pushes up into her, relishing the little breaths that sneak between their mouths. Jackson’s next finger is just as coated in lube, but much less gentle – just how Lydia likes it. “Fuck!” she screams, making Isaac’s arm tighten around her, and roll his hips until her ass gets used to Jackson’s intrusion.

After a few more soothing motions, Jackson scissoring his fingers inside her, pressing soft kisses to her spine, Lydia sighs softly. “More.”

The colour of her eyes has Isaac dizzy; they’re so dark, focused, starved. She’s been in dire need of this kind of attention, and no one was willing to give it to the crazy girl who flips out all the time. But right now – with her mouth sealed over Isaac’s, his cock deep inside her, Jackson’s fingers stretching her ass open – she looks as normal as any other sex-drugged teenager around.

Three fingers are only inside of Lydia for a few moments, because Isaac can feel the press of something hard and…vibrating inside of her. The sensation is almost too much; Jackson sliding it in and out, making it buzz against the thin skin inside of Lydia, pressing it down so Isaac can have double the friction while Lydia must feel like she’s being filled to the brim.

Jackson groans, stroking his cock in time with each push of the vibrator. Lydia is practically weeping, hair a tangled mess that only gets worse every time Isaac and Jackson shove in with perfect synchronisation. Isaac loves this dishevelled version of Lydia, moaning and mouthing at his neck, and adores Jackson thrusting helplessly into his own fist, but he wants more.

Lydia reaches behind her and smacks Jackson’s hand away. “Inside me. _Now_.”

It seems like Lydia wants that connection, too.

Jackson is unbelievably careful when he leans over her, guiding his cock inside. Isaac grabs for Jackson’s arm, squeezing on it harder the deeper Jackson goes. Lydia’s mouth opens on a silent cry, then she tangles her fingers in Jackson’s hair, moaning. “Fuck me.”

Each thrust is overlapping, not awkward exactly, but off-rhythm. It’s Jackson inside – rough, deep, stretching – then half a second passes, and it’s Isaac’s turn to do the same. It’s so overwhelming for them all.

Isaac just wants to keep kissing Lydia, to eat up her sounds like their gifts, but he wants to lap at Jackson’s full mouth and suck his lips like he would his neglected cock. Lydia, on the other hand, has a hand tangled in both of their hair, tugging when they hit wherever she needs them to inside of her, clenching hotly around them when they bite down on shoulders and breasts or lips and neck. Jackson lets his fingers run along Isaac’s open, bruised mouth, glistening like he’s been eating Lydia’s lip gloss for breakfast. And then his other hand curls against Lydia’s hip, leaving hand prints, finger-shaped marks. His ownership all over her.

It’s not long before they’re coming inside her, Lydia in a frenzy of sensations, screaming loud enough for the whole block to hear, collapsing like she’s ran a marathon when they stop fucking her into oblivion. Isaac is peaceful for a moment, basking in the beauty of what they’ve just shared, but Jackson is grumbling things under his breath.

Lydia tumbles off to the side, infinitely less graceful than she would be with her clothes on, limbs sprawled all over the bed. Jackson keeps murmuring complaints under his breath – that only Isaac can make out – so he dips his fingers inside of Lydia and shoves them in Jackson’s mouth to shut him up.

“There, happy? It’s just as good as tasting your come inside of her.” Isaac pulls off his condom, and ties it, leaving it on the bedside table.

Lydia makes an indignant face at Isaac – because he didn’t bother to ask - but doesn’t say anything. Jackson just licks his lips, glaring down at Isaac like he didn’t want anyone to know his secret fetish. Except that Isaac already knew it beforehand. So, what’s the big deal?

“Thank you,” Jackson grumbles, tongue clicking as he chases the taste.

Isaac smirks, sitting up on his elbows. “Is it that good?” He slides a finger inside of her, rubbing it across his mouth and on his tongue. Jackson looks like he’s having trouble holding himself back. “Share with me.”

Jackson growls when he drags Isaac forward, claiming his mouth and tongue like they’re not allowed to touch anyone else. Probably forgetting the part where they already did. But, _hey_ , Isaac isn’t going to complain about it; Jackson’s lips are probably softer than clouds, and puffy, inviting, juicy…

Lydia whimpers out loud. Something she didn’t mean to do. And then, she blushes – something she hasn’t done in a long time – watching them suck on each other’s mouths, swapping the taste of her. But, as wicked as they are, she likes it.

Jackson is here, grinding on top of Isaac, and Isaac is here, offering her and Jackson comfort. And Lydia feels like it’s a dream, because wasn’t she just completely abandoned not one day ago? Her hands stroke along their sides, and she pushes Jackson up onto his knees gently.

“Keep going,” she says, with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I’m going to make it better.”

Jackson’s arms cage Isaac in against the pillow, and Lydia carefully sits up, never taking her eyes off of them. When did this become a possibility? Having her boyfriend back, and a little extra that is oh-so-willing, and just as eager as they are.

She takes them both in hand, stroking their lengths, and spitting on her hands when the pre-come isn’t enough for her taste. She likes them nice and wet, dripping, stiff, and getting harder each time she rubs the heads of their cocks together. They fuckin’ _love_ it; thrusting in frantically, kissing and nipping at each other’s mouths, moaning her name and each other’s, desperate for a release that they can taste this time.

And when they climax, seconds apart - Jackson grabbing the bedpost, and Isaac digging his nails in Jackson’s waist - they don’t expect Lydia to be the one to help clean up. But she does. Sucking her fingers messily, sloppy, noisy like she knows they want her to be, they both groan, eyes intent on what she’s doing. Their bodies move unconsciously, rutting against each other like they haven’t just made a mess of her bed for a second time.

Her lips smack when she pulls her fingers out. “I guess I can understand the appeal.”

Jackson and Isaac roll until they’re wrapping around her, laughing and high on the pheromones. They take turns kissing her, petting her hair, touching her skin, and then each other’s. Tangled in each other – sweaty, spent, secure. Together.

Even Lydia could get used to being this messy if it means this kind of post-coital bliss.

\---

 

It’s a fairy-tale until the kid returns, more persistent than ever, set on convincing her that her two knights aren’t actually there.

_I’m the one in your life who cares. Isaac just wants to show off to his friends. And Jackson is using you for sex. I could give you so much more, Lydia._

But she’s not falling for this again. All those times he made her feel special, only to frighten her nearly to death with a hallucinations of blood and death. Never again.

She knows they care because, regardless of how exhausted they are after two orgasms, they still stir when she creeps out of bed. “I’m just taking a shower. Can you two take that blanket off, and use the one underneath?” she murmurs, blowing them a kiss.

Taking off her makeup feels liberating. She doesn’t need to wear a mask with them anymore. Once her face - and mind - is clear, she climbs into the shower stall, and just lets her leftover tension drip off of her skin with the sweat and come. If she called for them, they would be there in a second, she knows. And it’s a new, appreciated feeling. She likes having them around to count on. Her parents can only do so much.

She indulges in the shower more than she needs to, mind boggling at how filthy her first threesome was. And to think Jackson had asked quite a few times last year, but she kept refusing because she thought it was a bad idea. Seems they proved her wrong.

When Lydia gets back to her bed, she’s wearing a silk, fuchsia pyjama that hugs her curves in an invitation she hopes they take. Lydia could go for a third round; she’s energized by them, healed almost. But, unfortunately, they aren’t really awake yet.

They’re cuddled together on her bed, the soiled comforter mostly on the floor, but part of it hanging off, and tangled in their feet. They probably just kicked it away quickly, and went back to sleeping (and spooning).

Lydia chuckles softly, and they both crack an eye open as if she just put on heavy metal. She shushes them, gently, soothingly, and slips in behind Jackson quietly. She wraps her leg around his thigh, and her hand seeks out Isaac’s. He’s there in an instance, petting her digits and lacing their fingers.

She could _really_ get used to this kind of treatment. It’s like a relaxing spa with hot masseuses and great sex.

Wrapped in their warmth, the earlier playfulness kind of falls away, and she’s left feeling drowsy and safe. She falls asleep quickly after that. The boy in her visions is nowhere to be found, and she finally gets a healthy amount of rest.

 

\---

 

Jackson feels her moving, hears her whimpering, in her sleep. It wouldn’t be fair for him to drop his problems on her so soon when she’s still dealing with her own trauma. He kisses her forehead and whispers that everything is all right.

Isaac’s eyes are wide awake when Jackson turns back to face him, and they share a surprisingly shy smile. The first time may have been a fluke, but what happened after school definitely cemented their feelings for each other; they would do this again in a heartbeat. And, if Jackson can’t find it in himself to tell Lydia his secret, Isaac deserves to know instead.

He clears his throat, leaning closer not to wake Lydia. “I actually came here to warn her about the new creature in Beacon Hills.” Isaac’s brow furrows. “ _Me_.”

Isaac looks hesitant for a moment, his brow creasing, and then he nods, stroking Jackson’s cheekbone. “You can tell me.”

“I…don’t know what I am yet. Stiles and Scott said they’d find out for me. I’m still waiting, but I just need you to know I could be dangerous.” Jackson sighs, hiding part of his face in the pillow. “Actually, I am dangerous. I can feel it.” Jackson looks down at where Isaac is gently rubbing each of Lydia’s knuckles.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone, Jackson.” Isaac smiles, a fondness only Lydia – or Scott, more recently – has looked at him with. “I’ll watch you, and keep you both safe, okay?”

Jackson _would_ describe what he turns into to make Isaac’s life easier, but he doesn’t want to imagine it right now. He’s surrounded by so much trust and affection; it might scare Isaac away, and ruin what they’ve started building together.

“I’ll tell Stiles to give you the video I took when he’s done with it. It’ll show you what I look like.”

Isaac moves in closer, pressing the most delicate kiss against Jackson’s brow. He’s blushing when he pulls back. Maybe Jackson won’t appreciate being treated like they’re involved in something serious. But they are. At least, they are in Isaac’s mind.

Jackson hums, reaching for Isaac’s neck to keep him in place. It feels like acceptance, like the most he could ever want from someone else. Like all the things Jackson never expected he’d get from anyone who isn’t Lydia. And he’s aching for it to never go away.

“Thank you,” Jackson whispers, closing his eyes against the touch of lips to his eyelids.

Jackson understands now why Lydia would choose Isaac.

 

\---

 

It’s getting really late, and Jackson doesn’t want his parents to worry, so he asks Isaac if he can keep Lydia company for a little while longer.

Isaac grins, watching Jackson get dressed without any hint of shame. He didn’t get to enjoy the strip tease earlier, so he’ll take this backwards one instead. It’s his due payment for getting the popular couple back together.

“I don’t have anywhere to be right now. I’ll watch her.”

Jackson approaches, wearing a smirk so seductive that Isaac shivers. His chest rumbles appreciatively - with a suspicious, purr-like sound – when Jackson slides a hand down Isaac’s naked thigh. He grabs Jackson’s wrist, stopping the motion. “Don’t tease me or I won’t let you get home.”

Jackson smirks wider, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “Take care, Isaac. See you at school. Tell her I said goodnight.”

 

\---

 

Lydia waits until Isaac is standing, stretching out the muscle exertion, before she pretends to wake up. She fake-yawns, rubbing an eye. “Hungry? I could order us something small. I’m not very good at cooking.”

She won’t tell them she’s heard everything. If they want to keep her in the dark because they think she’s still too unstable, then maybe they’re right to. She believes them. She trusts their judgment. And trust is what makes her patient enough to wait until they decide the right time to share their secrets. They will one day. She just has to wait.

Isaac glances over his shoulder, seeing the lingerie that Lydia’s wearing like it was _made_ with her in mind. She must have planned to seduce them – again. What a shame. Or not.

“It might be too late to order. But, uh, I can think of something else I have a craving for.”

Lydia props herself up on an elbow, teasingly pulling at the thin strap of her dress. “Why don’t you show me? Maybe I’d like some, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments forever appreciated.


End file.
